


Christmas in May

by Bluehaven4220



Category: due South
Genre: Best Friends, Family, Gen, Origin Story, due South Seekrit Santa Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 00:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluehaven4220/pseuds/Bluehaven4220
Summary: “Well then, let’s see what we can see,” he says. “We have a rock, a plank of wood, and we have you. You’re the most important part of our escape plan.”





	Christmas in May

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scatteredmoonlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteredmoonlight/gifts).



> Extra special thanks to ButterflyGhost and DoctorBane for the idea bouncing and beta. I couldn't have done this without your help!

There is a human in a hole. At least, it _looks_ like a hole. The hole that other humans build to trap the Danger Floofs. The Danger Floofs that can eat little babies like me. But there are no Danger Floofs around right now, and the human didn’t see the hole, which is why he fell in.

I go over to the hole, and I look down. The human is looking up, and he doesn’t know what to do. He looks like he lost his pack.

I know what it means to not have a pack. It means you’re cold and hungry and you have no one to keep you company. Maybe if I jump down, I can help the human, and maybe we can be pack? He looks like a nice human.

I push a rock to the hole, but the snow and ice are cold and slippery, and I fall in. The human catches me and picks me up.

“What are you doing down here?” he asks.

I yip, wanting to tell him that I want to help him. If he’s stuck down here, he won’t be able to keep tracking. That’s what it looked like he was doing when he fell into the hole.

“We should get you out of here, little one. It’s not safe down here. You could get hurt.”

It’s not safe up there either, if I’m all by myself. He lifts me up and jumps, and I’m out of the hole again. But I don’t want to leave the human. He’s stuck, but maybe I can help him get out too.

I find a piece of wood and push it into the hole, but it hits him on the head. I’ve seen humans use these things but I don’t know how they use them. And because it hit him on the head, now he’s fallen over.

Uh oh. I jump back in the hole and land on the human. I have to wake him up because he could get too cold and not be able to track the Danger Floofs. And I know sometimes if humans get too cold, they don’t wake up.

I keep licking his face until he opens his eyes and sits up.

“Guess you’re stuck with me, huh?” The human runs his hand through my fur.

I yip. I don’t mind being stuck. I can already tell he’s a nice human, and I don’t have a pack. He can be my pack.

“Well then, let’s see what we can see,” he says. “We have a rock, a plank of wood, and we have you. You’re the most important part of our escape plan.”

I bark, pacing around his head. It feels good to know that I’m important to the plan. I was the smallest in my pack, and I didn’t get a lot of chances to show Mama and Papa that I could help. This human doesn’t seem to mind that I’m small.

“Okay, so I need you to get out of the hole, just like we did before you knocked me in the head with the wood. But this time, you need to sit on the plank.”

Sit? I know how to sit. Mama taught me before she left me all alone. She didn’t mean to leave me, though. I was too small and I couldn’t keep up.

I bark, telling the human that yes, I can sit on the plank. I’m a clever pup. Mama always said so, and Mamas never lie.

“Okay,” he leans the plank up and then picks me up under my belly. “Up you go!”

I’m out of the hole and I sit like the human asked me to. I put my paws on the end of the wood. I’ve seen other pups and humans do it, maybe that’s what I have to do?

The human backs up to the other side of the hole, then runs and jumps. He holds on and pulls himself up, swinging his legs up and gets himself out of the hole.

He sits and waits for a minute, so I go over and stick my head under his hand.

“Yes, thank you kindly,” he scratches me behind the ears. “Now then, what are you doing all the way out here? Where’s your pack?”

I bark and stick my nose into his side, trying to get warm.

“Oh.” His voice is full of sympathy as he runs his hands over my muzzle. I groan in pleasure. “You don’t have a pack anymore?”

I whimper.

“Me neither, not really,” he pulls me up onto his legs. “It can get lonely sometimes. But sometimes it’s good to not have a pack.”

No, it’s not. Not having a pack means you’re cold and hungry and the Danger Floofs can get you. The Danger Floofs got Mama and the rest of my pack. I bark and stretch up to lick him again.

“What do you say, huh? Let’s go back to my detachment?”

I don’t know what he means when he says ‘detachment’, but if that means I can walk with him, then I’ll go. He really is a nice human, but he’s clumsy. Poor clumsy human only has two legs, and that’s why he fell in a hole. He needs a four-footed person to look after him. I don’t want him to fall into another hole and get stuck again.

We walk for a very long time and then come to a den that’s big and tall, not like the den I lived in with Mama. Once we get there, we have to walk up three planks of rock and through a den entrance made of cold wood. There are other humans sitting at blocks of wood and on things with wheels that I don’t know the names of, and one human is standing behind a big tall block of wood.

“Hey, Fraser, looks like you’ve got a shadow…” he says.

So, the human’s name I’m following is Fraser.

“Suppose I do,” Fraser says, and I yip at the human behind the tall block of wood. “Come on then, Shadow,” he tells me. “We’re all done for today. How about you and me track our way home?”

I yip. If Fraser wants me to track, that means he likes me. And he said “home.” Is home like a den? And why did he call me Shadow? Is Shadow my name? Mama never called me Shadow… I don’t think I like it much.

We go back outside, and it’s cold and wet. There’s more snow on the ground, but I know what snow is. Snow can both help and hurt you, but you have to know how to navigate it properly.

“Okay, little one…” Fraser bends down and rubs me on the back of my neck. “You show me what you know. We’ll track together, hmm?”

I bow.

“Okay, come on, you walk with me…”

I stand right beside him and wait. And then, when he starts walking, I hop in the footprints that his boots leave and catch the snowflakes on my tongue.

We walk for a while and then come to deep snow, and I trip. Oops. And here I thought humans were clumsy. Fraser keeps walking ahead, so I bark and he stops.

His boots make stomping noises in the snow as he comes back and picks me up.

“Yeah, it’s a little too deep for you here. Just don’t get comfortable. I can’t carry you all the time.”

I grumble, then rub my head against his coat. Fraser is warm, and he’s holding me just right, so my legs aren’t dangling behind me.

We crunch through the snow (it’s really too deep for me, just like Fraser says), and then we come up to a tall den that looks like the other den that had all the blocks of wood and people standing behind them. Only this den has a different type of entrance, and there’s a puff of smoke coming from the top.

Fraser tucks me close under his arm and opens up the den entrance.

There are different smells all around the den, and another human standing at the fire box. He smells a bit like Fraser, but I don’t think that he’s supposed to be here.

“Hello, Son,” says the stranger.

I growl under Fraser’s arm.

“Hello Dad,” Fraser puts me down on the floor and I hide behind his legs, still growling. What is this human doing in Fraser’s den? “What are you doing here?”

Ha! I knew Fraser could speak _some_ Wolf. We’re already thinking the same things. Wait, did he say ‘Dad?’ Is that the same as ‘Papa?’ Either way, I hope he learns soon that I don’t like being called Shadow, because Mama didn’t call me that. Sometimes she called all of us pups ‘Love’, but she had a different smell for each of us. Maybe that’s why humans don’t always understand us; they just make noise when they speak. Fraser doesn’t seem like that, though.

“I’ve come to visit you, Son. For Christmas.”

“Christmas? Dad, it’s May!”

“Oh well, who says you can’t have Christmas dinner in May? It’s certainly cold enough for it.”

Fraser groans, and it sounds like the sound Mama and Papa made when they didn’t like something that us pups did. “Whether it’s cold or not isn’t the point. Just _once,_ I’d like if you could show up when you say you’re going to show up!”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” The stranger says. “Anyway, is that the thanks I get for surprising you with dinner?”

Dinner sounds good, but I still don’t like the fact that the stranger came to the den unannounced, so I yip at him from behind Fraser’s legs.

That’s when he sees that I’m here, and looks down. “Now who’s this, then? Where’d you pick up a pup?”

“He rescued me out of a bear trap, and now he’s here with me.”

The stranger called Dad gives me a dubious look. “This little guy rescued you out of a bear trap? He doesn’t look big enough.”

Fraser bristled. Well, as much as he could, since he doesn’t have fur. It’s the thought that counts.

“Big has nothing to do with it. He’s clever.”

Oh! Fraser thinks I’m clever. I like that. I can feel my tail start wagging behind me.

“Oh yes, I can see that. Anyhow, when did you fall into a bear trap?”

I wonder if Bear is another name for a Danger Floof? It sounds like it might be.

“About three hours ago,” Fraser shrugs. “I’d still be down there if Shadow here hadn’t found me.”

I don’t like the name Shadow. Mama never called me Shadow, and the stranger Fraser called Dad is looking at me like he wants to ask me a question.

“You can’t call this little guy Shadow,” he says as Fraser takes off his boots. “A name helps define someone’s character.”

“Really? Is that why you called me Benton?” Fraser sounds a little bit angry.

“What’s wrong with the name Benton? It’s a good name.”

“I spent the majority of my school years being called Bent, so thanks very much.”

“Ah, well in that case, I didn’t name you, your mother did. You can thank her for that.”

Fraser rolls his eyes, and finishes taking off his boots. I still don’t want the stranger called Dad to come near me, so I wait until Fraser sits on the floor, and I climb into one of his boots to hide. They are still warm, and smell like Fraser.

“What are you doing, hmm?” Fraser pulls his boot toward him, but doesn’t lift me out. He can see that I feel safe, so he lets me stay. “Well, since I don’t think your name is Shadow, I don’t know what to call you, yet.”

The stranger called Dad looks at me, and now that he’s sitting on the floor with Benton (I think that’s his name, the stranger said so), he’s not so scary. He looks like a more grown up version of Benton.

“I think he could be a Diefenbaker.”

Diefenbaker? That sounds like a good name.

“I can’t call him Diefenbaker!” Benton tells him. “Who names a dog Diefenbaker unless they know who he is?”

“Some of your sled dogs have names like Borden and Laurier, what’s wrong with Diefenbaker?”

I don’t want them to argue about it. Diefenbaker is a good name. I like it. I like how it sounds when Benton says it. I want to keep it, so that I can have a name like Benton does.

I bark and put my paws over the top of Benton’s boot.

Benton puts his face close to my nose. “Diefenbaker.” He says again.

I bark and lick the end of his nose.

“Okay,” he sighed, but smiled as he did. “I guess your name is Diefenbaker.” He slides me a little further back without making me get out of the boot. “Smells good, Dad. What are you roasting?”

“Caught us an arctic tern, Benton,” he says. “It’s nearly done.”

What’s a tern? I don’t remember Mama ever finding it for us.

“Grandmother made us tern plenty of times,” Benton says.

“Yeah I know, but I’m not going to burn it if that’s what you’re worried about,” the stranger called Dad answers. “I know your grandmother was famous for that.”

Both of them get up and go to sit at a block of wood with their catch. It smells really yummy, and I’m hungry. But I can’t get anything to eat if I’m not close to the food. So, I climb out of Benton’s boot and walk over to him.

Benton looks at me and breaks a little bit of meat off the bone for me. I take it in small bites at first, since I’m not used to hot food, but this is nice. My tail is wagging and Benton smiles, puts a plate with more meat on the floor for me.

“This is a treat, Diefenbaker,” Benton says. “We can’t eat like this all the time. It’s not good for us.”

The stranger called Dad laughs a little bit. “Oh now, lighten up a little, Benton. It’s Christmas, after all.”

I look up and see Benton smile at Dad. “Yeah. It’s Christmas. Christmas in May.”

I decide I like having Christmas in May, even though I don’t know what Christmas is. I don’t know what May is either, but I like it just as much as Christmas.

Maybe I can get Benton to celebrate it every year.


End file.
